Monster Series Crystalline Sphere
by sweet-and-simple
Summary: Bands of gold are around my wrists. Whether it be my will or not, my hands travel my body.  In the mirror, his obsidian eyes burn. RL, 6927, 18Pin, 8733, 8059


Somewhere off in the woods, Yamamoto is screwing stupidera into the fallen autumn leaves, unable to fight his nature. Stupidera is trying his hardest to pretend that he is unaffected but Yamamoto is easily able to tell that he is lying.

Somewhere off in the sky, Ryohei and Hana are cuddling, sleeping through the blood red moon that haunts us down on earth. Ryohei is snoring loud enough to wake any being unfortunate enough to have a sense of hearing. Hana is wearing ear plugs.

Somewhere off in the mountains, Hibari is on the hunt; what is he hunting? Human. To be more specific, he is hunting I-Pin. To be even more specific, he has no desire to eat, but his hunger will be difficult for I-Pin to satisfy.

Somewhere off in HQ, Vongola is being led astray by Mukuro, whose aim is to completely expose our beloved Tenth and then fuck him raw in his confusion. It will work only because Vongola can not say no to him – not because Vongola actually fell for the illusion.

Somewhere off in town, Kyoko and Haru are enjoying cakes and sampling treats. They are chattering about anything and everything coming to mind, laughing softly whenever what they said was relatively humorous or brought them to reminiscing.

I know all of this because that is what I always see – I see it all through this innocent sphere that sits regally in a bed of black and red velvet. Within it is swirling, pure crystalline water. Within the pure, crystalline water is images; everything from what I wish to see from what I wish not to see from what I wish to have never seen.

Gokudera cums across his belly and collapses onto the colorful forest ground; panting, sweating, and still ripping at the ground as if it would offer stability to his clearly crazed and speedy thoughts. Yamamoto, not nearly done with him, holds his ass high and pounds into him. He drops his head and bites Gokudera's nape, much like his brethren would to their mates. Gokudera doesn't have the energy to fight him.

Ryohei rolls over – away from Hana. With him, he takes his glowing golden wings, the wings he had had wrapped around his girlfriend to keep her with him in the sky. Hana's eyes shoot open, horror-filled; she has no time to scream as she plummets through the clouds. Somehow, Ryohei seems to realize his mistake anyway, albeit sleepily. Just as Hana disappears beneath the cloud they had been resting on, Ryohei's hand snaps through the white and grabs her by the wrist – in the knick of time, he pulls her back up and holds her tightly in his arms. Snoring reins again; Hana stares at him for long moments before the tension leaks away and she rests hesitantly against him. Her eyes flicker down before she buries her face into Ryohei's throat. Even as she does this virtually submissive action, she still looks highly independent, almost haughty as she subtly hides.

I would be terrified too if I couldn't fly but was still 4,000 feet high up. I bet she has difficulty breathing; I bet Ryohei is the only thing keeping her alive, aside from keeping her afloat.

Hibari is closing in on I-Pin, who hides just at the mouth of a shallow cavern carved into the side of Hibari's territory. She is waiting for him to go by so she can scurry away; not a muscle twitches as she waits for his disappearance. And disappear he does – only to be appear right behind her. His arms become a cage and his lips a muffler. Their mouths meld and bruise and she falls limp against him: defeat. She, the prey, consents to him, the predator.

I have never been sure whether to pity her relationship with the cruel demon or feel happy that she has what she has always wanted – Kyouya Hibari: strongest guardian of the Vongola family. I was rather surprised too when he returned her affections. Now I just hope he treats her right – she is typically my little sister, after all.

Vongola migrates from the library to the bedroom; not that he knows it. Or maybe he _does_ know it, but he won't let on that he does; as far as Mukuro's game goes, he is going from the kitchen to his front door, planning on visiting Kyoko and Haru for a dinner date. Once he enters his bedroom, the door shuts and locks behind him: by how he doesn't bother to break free, he knows as well as I that it is impossible to escape short of destroying half of HQ. His clothes are ripped from his frame – he doesn't bother to be shocked or startled. Hands appear on his chest, stroking, teasing, and pinching, before a body is visible. Indigo hair swishes and then rests against a long, lean back. A red and violet eye are focused completely on Vongola. There is a teasing smirk on his lips as his hands drop and manipulate Vongola to fever pitch. Without further adieu, he throws Vongola on the bed he had neglected to that point, and then bangs him into the mattress until sweat and seed cover them like the spots of a cow.

I love Vongola, but Mukuro is a questionable case. Do I trust him or not? For now, I can only bear with him – Vongola loves him after all. That, for now, is good enough a reason to let him be.

Kyoko and Haru discuss what to make for breakfast and realize that they had forgotten to purchase me a cake – they debate what to give up and then laugh once the affair is decided. Later, when they get home – when _I _get home – they will give me a double-fudge, layered piece of cake with mint frosting and sprinkles.

I will be grateful for that later.

I step away from the crystalline ball – the images are disrupted by my tears. I see them all, but none of them see me. All they see is love. They are holding so much love…

And I hold sacrifice. I _am_ the sacrifice. I have always been the sacrifice…

I am the sacrifice that holds our family together, that allows the family to wallow in such adoration and warmth.

To them, it has been three hours since they last saw me. To me, in this realm of endless time, it has been three centuries. Literally, it has been. In an earth hour, the realm of darkness has experienced another passing 100 years. For 109,573 days – three centuries –, I have rested here – a slave to a god's desire. All for them.

The images within the watery sphere waver, darken, and then disappear.

It is the millennium of the red moon; for my family, it shall only be a night. For one night, madness drives their true natures to harm, to fornicate, and to _kill_ if the chance arises. For me, in this realm of darkness and damned souls, I shall spend 365,242 days in madness.

I sacrifice for them all.

My robe slips from my shoulders. I glimpse at my bare body in the reflecting mirrors – reflecting mirrors on every surface of the room.

Unmarred, fresh cream beige skin over a lanky, fragile frame. My emerald green eyes lance with flashes of lightening. Regularly, a strike of static races across my flesh and glows briefly neon green before dispersing. My sable locks are untamed, but soft to the touch.

I caress a hand down my throat – watch as my fingers skim over smooth, sensitive terrain… Last night – mere minutes ago by earth standard –, bruises and scars had marked my body; bite marks and claw marks that had raked across my entire body. My body had been numb due to all that pain and scarring. It was good not to be human. Very good.

My hand begins to glow: it glows golden such as the energy of the sun. It isn't of my doing.

"Don't stop." Hands wrap around my chest and then slide down my sides to rest on my hips. Fangs glisten in the near-darkness of the room. "Keep touching yourself." He purrs into my ear. "Let me watch." But he isn't asking – he's telling.

Bands of gold are around my wrists; whether it be my will or not, my hands travel my body. In the mirror, his obsidian eyes _burn_. And not just _burn_ as in set fire to my soul, but _burn_ as in set fire to my skin; cream beige begins to redden underneath his fixed glare. My fingers dance across my burning flesh and – _damn it_ – it hurts, but the pain hurts so good…

I grip myself. I hadn't meant to, but I do. My hand spans my length and then begins to rub; my knees become weak as my thumb presses into my gland. His hands on my hips keep me standing.

The crystalline sphere comes alive with images – Yamamoto is losing form, skin covering with raven-black fur, his jaw coming askew as his face lengthens. Gokudera is losing form, golden fur erupting from my contorting frame, black rosettes blooming from the hide.

Ryohei's eyes snap open; he feels the madness below. Expression serious, he tangles a hand into Hana's hair, hiding her face into his chest as his wings flap and then fold to encompass her completely. His eyes gaze downward, cast to the laughing Kyoko and Haru. His face admits openly his debate to go and hide them in the clouds as well.

I-Pin manages to escape Hibari's arms, only because Hibari released her. She runs, almost completely naked, across the face the mountain. She almost shakes with excitement; there is a growing grin on her lips as Hibari renews the hunt.

Mukuro whispers something to Vongola, a smirk on his lips as his hips steadily pump forward, a gentler rhythm than what they had been at not too long ago. Vongola's eyes lighten, turn from chocolate brown to a glowing orange. His mouth opens wide, fangs are bared – his teeth sink into Mukuro's throat. In ecstasy, Mukuro arches and his lips open on a groan. A brutal pace begins once again.

Kyoko and Haru pause, smiles disappearing as their shoulders hunch. They, usually so naïve to their surroundings, can feel the charged air, the animalistic lust blowing through and around them. As one, they glimpse up at the blood red moon.

My eyes snap back from the reflection of the crystalline sphere to the smirk decorating my capturer's face. "Elemental." My capturer mock-sings. "Pay attention only to me." His jaw unhinges – his alabaster skin becomes ashen and his obsidian eyes erupt with golden flames. His hands, formerly well-manicured, have talons at the end of each finger. Wings erupt – two sets of them, the higher set three times larger than the lower set – darker than the bottom of a bottomless pit, almost like portals into a realm that had never been. Wings so dark, feathers can not be discerned and attempting to look for them would suck the gazer into their depths until they suddenly realize that they're dead. Or maybe not, but that is there problem.

His fangs nip at my shoulder. His tongue, long and serpentine, flickers across my red flesh. His mouth kisses along my shoulder until it rests against the nape of my neck. There, he strikes.

I try to open my mouth to scream at the rapturous agony, but no sound escapes me. He holds me in the way that Yamamoto's brethren hold their mates, in the way that Yamamoto holds Gokudera now as shown in the crystalline sphere: as a dominant, an alpha… a beast.

Reborn… God of suffering. And I, just a lowly lightening elemental, have no will against him. He is too strong, too fast, and too… too _godly_ for me to defy.

My hands lie flat against the mirrors; bands of gold around my ankles slide my legs apart.

Talons tease my hole, force their way into me. Flesh splits. My urge to scream grows but the ability to do so still hasn't come.

I rip my gaze from the window, shutting my eyes so I don't have to see anything. My jaw jerks – my eyes are forced open. I stare at myself as he prepares me, watch the trail of crimson follow down my leg to dribble from my ankle to the floor. There is a golden band around my neck. It grows golden tails that connect to the rings of gold around my wrists and ankles, like chains. An even smaller ring forms around the base of my member.

It is going to be a long night.

Yamamoto, now a wolf with the structure of a human and a few feet larger than so, rides Gokudera, an average-sized jaguar. His canines hold in the ruff of Gokudera's fur, keeping him still as his hips roll, bucking into his body. His back paws dig into the ground, muscles clenching and unclenching as he bucks forward. Gokudera undulates beneath him, making bird-like whistles of pleasure and then roaring in defiance, trying to throw Yamamoto off or twist around to bite him. Yamamoto pulls out almost completely before shoving forward, startling Gokudera into the foliage. Their sexual war ends with Yamamoto the victor, Gokudera pushing back on him.

Ryohei is becoming agitated – he nuzzles his chin into Hana's hair, but his eyes are focused and dangerous.

I-Pin is caught again; Hibari picks up where they had left off.

Mukuro cradles Vongola to him, lips quirked in a small smirk. His red and violet eye are heavy lidded, watching Vongola from under thick indigo eye lashes. He makes slow love to Vongola, holding him in his lap as he thrusts gently up. Vongola suckles from the wound he had created at Mukuro's throat, looking half-asleep as he holds on.

Kyoko and Haru quicken their pace, jogging back to HQ.

Reborn's talons leave my abused hole and instead bite into my hips. He teases me, flexing his abdominal muscles to rub his cock against my cheeks. He pushes me forward; the crystalline sphere leaves my sight as my chest rests against cool glass. My nipples harden.

He shoves my hips forward; half-hard, my member becomes trapped between me and the mirror, chafing pleasantly. His cock slips, mockingly thrusts between my cheeks, sliding against my tail bone. I shiver.

He pulls away from my nape, tongue lolling over his bloody lips. His ashen skin lightens to alabaster and the flame in his eyes dim. He smirks at me in the mirror. "Elemental." He pinches my nipple between two talons; a thin trail of blood trickles from he wound. "Don't take your eyes off of the mirror." He licks along my jaw. "Keep watching."

His cock pushes at my entrance. It becomes hard to breathe as he stretches my orifice, toying with me.

All I can hear is the sound of my own breathing and his quiet coos.

"Are you ready?" He nibbles on my ear lobe.

I shake my head wordlessly. Biting my bottom lip, I am helpless but to watch. His hand spans my belly; he smiles at me in the mirror. He mouths against my shoulder '_mine'_.

And then he rolls his hips against my butt, shoving his entire cock into me.

Soundlessly, I scream. Saliva dribbles from the corner of my mouth and my vision blanks out for a small second. When I come back to myself, I'm staring at the ceiling; I can see his head bent over my shoulder, his broad shoulders bunching forward as his arms wrap around my waist, his wings folding against his back. I can see myself caged between his solid body and the mirror before me. My mouth forms a perfect 'O' and my eyes are wide orbs of dancing lightening streaks, alive and frantic.

He wraps a hand around my chin and forces me to look back in the mirror. "What did I say? Keep your eyes…" He thrusts. "here." He cinches his hands underneath my knees and lifts my legs. "Do you like what you see?"

I can see him, his throbbing length enveloped by my body. Pre-cum and blood seeps down the last inch of him not buried within me, dripping onto his sac. He pulls out to the tip – his length is wet and red, veins popping – and pushes slowly back in – he disappears inch by _slow_ inch, sliding against my inner walls.

"Do you –" He pulls out again. "like what – " He plunges into me, sac slapping against my butt. In the mirror, my face is frozen on a soundless scream; tears trek down my cheeks. "you see?" He kisses the corner of my lips.

I nod, unable to defy him. I _hate_ what I see, but I can't help but love it as well. He feels so _good_ sliding in and out of me. And watching him do so is highly erotic.

"Mmm…" He nuzzles behind my ear. My hands slide down to my length and begins pumping, careful not to dislodge the cock ring – not of my doing. My feet plant against the mirror, spreading my legs wide. His hands slide down my legs and hold me up by my inner thighs. "Beautiful elemental…" He nips my throat. "Just like that. _Feel me_."

* * *

His bed is an endless sea of black silk, shimmering in the red light cast from the open balcony window. The red light bathes my beaten body.

Bite marks mar me from throat to inner thigh; semen spots me and blood flows like red veins over my skin. There are burns ringing my neck, wrists, and ankles. I stare at my palms, uncomfortable rashes on them from when he had fucked me on all fours.

_He strokes my hair back as I swallow around him. "Elemental…" He thrusts lightly. "Lick the head." I do as told. His eyes slant, pleased. The edge of his lips soften. His thumb pets my cheek. _

I clench my hand.

He had left me here after hours of sex. Limp and exhausted, I haven't moved since he put me here. I can only rest, lightening flickering and streaking across my body, healing my human shell, for now. Wait a few more hours and then maybe check in on my family again.

How much longer until I can go home? … I can't leave until the sun's light touches HQ. There are 12 hours of darkness in the earthen realm this time of year and only three hours have passed there. Hours have passed since the last time I checked on them, but that is hardly minutes in the human realm.

That leaves… maybe 9 centuries for me, 9 hours for them.

Can I take even another century of this? A millennium spent in the arms of the god of suffering… I thought it would be easier with time, but it is only harder.

A mirror glares in the red moon night – I catch a glimpse of my eyes: Emerald green. There is no lightening streaking through them, no life – the only lightening is that racing over my body, healing me, but even that is dim and weak.

Hands come from the shadows cast by the canopy. They caress my bloody frame, warm to my cool skin. Glowing red orbs return my stare in the mirror. "Why so pitiful, elemental?" And he leans out of the shadows, ruby red eyes meeting the red moonlight – the contrast casts them as obsidian.

Tears leak from my eyes.

I'm sorry, Vongola… I'm not strong enough. I am an elemental, not a god; not like him. Especially a god of suffering. His pleasure is my pain, his joy is my sorrow.

He licks the tears away. "Are you done? Can't you bear my presence any longer?" He mocks me.

Three centuries spent with him… endless nights being used by him, being belittled by him… being drained by him. I don't have the strength to stand up against him.

"Do you want to go home?"

Yes… more than anything in the world, I want to go home. I want to be hugged by Kyoko and Haru, be spoiled by Vongola… I want to be with I-Pin again, laugh with Yamamoto, Ryohei, and piss Gokudera off. I want to watch Mukuro annoy Vongola and Hibari try to kill Mukuro.

I don't want to be here any longer.

The answer is in my eyes and I know he can see it.

He smiles; nuzzles my throat. "Too bad for you, huh?" His knuckles run along my inner thigh. "You are mine until the red moon falls." And as he says this, he dissipates, fading into nothing.

He leaves me painfully alone with my thoughts.

Until the red moon falls… I'm not even half-way there and already I can feel death upon me. Elementals are not easily killed, but this… this will kill me.

I turn my head – there lies the crystalline sphere.

Yamamoto, pelt sweaty, but finally spent, has curled around Gokudera, who appears irritated with his oval ears pressed flat to his skull, his glowing green eyes sharp and pissed. He hisses as Yamamoto shifts closer, resting his large, wolfish head on Gokudera's shoulder, his one leg over his belly. Nevertheless, as Yamamoto closes his eyes, Gokudera actually looks half pleased, relaxing into the heat of Yamamoto's fur.

Ryohei has relaxed, snoring once more. Hana is comfortably deaf to him, asleep in his embrace.

I-Pin kisses Hibari, surprising the demon. There is a moment if stillness… and then their twisted game of hide and seek begins all over again.

Vongola cums across their bellies and chests, throwing his head back. Trickles of blood come from both sides of his lips. Mukuro watches him with fixed rapture, still thrusting lightly.

And I am here… alone. Never truly alone, but wishing that I were alone.

But I shall never, ever be truly alone. I will always have the god of suffering with me. _Reborn_ shall always be with me…

If he is a god, than what god do I pray to for mercy?


End file.
